


Moments Like These

by kibahshi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Banter, Breathplay, Choking, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Face-Fucking, Frottage, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Premature Ejaculation, Switching, Titjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:58:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9582518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kibahshi/pseuds/kibahshi
Summary: “'I regret to inform you that Cor the Immortal has finally taken his last breath, but not to falling in battle, no. No no, heavens no, but in my bed! He asked for me to wrap my hands around his neck and choke him blue and,” he clicked his tongue, forcing an apt but ugly noise from his throat. Cor shook his head, as much staring at Ardyn as he was staring through him.“You take too much glee in this.”Ardyn grinned. “Oh, indubitably ”---In which Cor Leonis asks his sometimes-suitor Ardyn Izunia to choke him, and they both get what they want from their encounter





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jonphaedrus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonphaedrus/gifts), [thetealord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetealord/gifts).



> Because the slime chat is both horribly and wonderfully enabling in equal measure, and Cor/Ardyn is just such a good ship guys I can't even handle it;;;
> 
> This is both the longest oneshot I've written in years, and the longest/first smut I've ever written/published. Hopefully its decent lmao I know I had fun with it 
> 
> Heads up for banter, and no beta-read ;000

“I'm surprised you trust me so much,” Ardyn said, one leg folded over the other as he tapped a tune against his knee and as Cor glowered from across the room. Ardyn was beginning to assume that that, truly, ignoring all word to the contrary, was just how his face naturally stuck. He placed a hand delicately on his chest, scarf rumpling beneath his fingertips. “Why, I know we're _fond_ of each other but I think we can both agree that that is so much more of a _carnal_ thing than affection, no?---”

“It's not entirely about trust,” Cor replied, clipped, and met Ardyn's with those blue, blue eyes, lit with a cold fire, a sort of fearlessness of him that set his heart aflutter, “It's more along the lines of me knowing you like me too much to kill me.”

Ardyn gasped, placing his palm flat to his breast. “Oh, heavens no! I wouldn't _dare!_ Well, not like this, at the very least! Certainly not here! Could you imagine dear Loqi's distress? “'Oh General Loqi! So good to see you but I come to you with a heavy heart,'” Ardyn clasped his hands in prayer and batted his eyes. 

“'I regret to inform you that Cor the Immortal has finally taken his last breath, but not to falling in battle, no. No no, heavens no, but in my bed! He asked for me to wrap my hands around his neck and choke him blue and,” he clicked his tongue, forcing an apt but ugly noise from his throat. Cor shook his head, as much staring at Ardyn as he was staring through him.

“You take too much glee in this.”

Ardyn grinned. “Oh, indubitably ”

“For all you know, Loqi might just prefer I die a humiliating death.”

Ardyn felt his grin stretch. “ _Would_ it be humiliating for you, marshal?”

Cor didn't shrink from the intensity of his gaze. It sent a thrum of satisfaction through Ardyn, blooming warm in his chest and weaving its way between his ribs. Before the marshal, it had been a long while since such a lack of reaction could thrill him so.

“If I thought it humiliating, I wouldn't have asked.” 

“So practical!”

“I know the gamble in sharing a bed with you.”

“And yet I'm the only one to truly suffer...”

There was a smirk there, settled in Cor's eyes even though the set of his mouth was stern, tone curt and Ardyn drank in that glimmer like a man dying of thirst. “Isn't that how you like things?”

“Now, now,” Ardyn chided, raising his hands in surrender and showing Cor his palms, “I'm not the one asking to be choked.”

“No, but you are the one to bring my hands to your throat and gag for it.”

He laughed, clapping his hands. “Oh, the bruises! You should have seen Caligo's face! Priceless, priceless!”

“Mmn.”

“You know, I could dress you up as my prisoner one day. Parade you around just so we could make them fluster. Imagine, just the two of us...”

“Strange idea of a date.”

“Fancy dinners only add _so_ much to a relationship, Cor... Which, as I'm now reminded, you've never taken me on... Instead you simply steal away into my bases, wreak havoc upon my garrisons and steal _me_ away behind the shipping containers... Oh marshal,” he sighed, “you must have been _such_ a heart breaker, back in your day.”

“I'm 45.”

Ardyn nodded sagely. “Back in your day.”

Cor truly rolled his eyes then, the line of his mouth pulling endearingly crooked. It was expressive enough that it made Cor look younger than his proclaimed age even if the whispers of crows feet forming around his eyes sang the contrary. 

Ardyn couldn't help but wonder what the man had looked like when young when he looked like this, when his body wasn't made a map of by scars; with valleys made by deep that could have been severe had it not been for the medical care of Insomnia; star-like craters made by bullet holes, leaving divots Ardyn could find with his fingers and his mouth and the one, subtle graze he was especially fond of along Cor's side. One he plucked at now and then, that his fingers sat so nicely into before he pulled it slow across the wound just to see Cor's eye twitch- all unconscious of course. The man denied all claims of being ticklish.

His favorite scar was the one at Cor's throat, however. A pretty cleave in a strong neck. A strong, handsome neck that he just wanted to fit his hands around and give Cor what he wanted. Ardyn looked Cor in the eye, uncrossed his legs, then dropped his gaze to the scar. Cor immediately stood at attention.

“You know, you requesting this did end up putting a _very_ pretty thought in my head,” Ardyn hummed, rising to walk across the room, each step slowed to a prowl. He pulled his hood from beneath the lapels of his jacket, winding his fingers through the holes before slinging it over Cor's shoulders.

Tugging it flush against the back of his neck, he made sure to cross it over itself right in front of that diamond mark, pulling it snug and as firm as a kiss. Cor's eyes dropped to it briefly, and Ardyn wiggled a finger teasingly through a hole. “If we were to do this again, wouldn't it be thrilling to find something that would leave a different kind of mark on you? I mean, something other than my hands”

He thought of the lattice-like marks his hooded shawl could make on the marshal's throat, beautiful and segmented and utterly undeniable in who gave them to him. His sense of fashion was one of a kind, so why not the bruises he left, too?

The apple of Cor's throat bobbed. “You'd leave me marks?

He tutted, wagging his finger. “Shame on you, marshal. You should know that my best is my best!” He smiled slow, pulling drape of his shawl a touch tighter. “Do you mean to imply that _you_ don't give me _yours?”_

“I wouldn't dare,” Cor said, and leaned in like it was one. “I'd just rather not get my hopes up if you're only bluffing.”

Ardyn held Cor's eyes, practically able to feel the warmth in Cor's breath with their proximity. He pulled the fabric tighter, as tight as he could without damaging his shawl or getting to the main event too quickly. The marshal held his gaze just as Ardyn kept his smile. 

“Cheeky,” he murmured. He loosened the fabric's grip.

“I'd prefer daring,” Cor shrugged, “but if you like me so much, why not give you a proper reason.”

Ardyn pouted, thoughtful. “I could like you for your mouth. Or your cock.”

 _That_ earned him a smirk. “In that case, you could find anyone...”

“But I find you?”

“You find _me.”_

“Should we have this be a reward then?” Ardyn asked, bundling the trail of his shawl into his hand to bring it to Cor's throat. He felt him swallow in the form of a shift through the soft, well-loved fabric “For your patience,” he hummed, trailing the fingers of his idle hand down Cor's chest. “Your _time._ ” Ardyn squeezed Cor's throat, curling his fingers beneath the marshal's groin and gripping him firm. Whether the resulting gasp came from the grip around his throat or the squeeze to his jean-clad cock, Ardyn wasn't sure.

He wanted to hear more of it.

Cor had taken to staring determinedly at nothing some point above Ardyn's head and he turned to look in the same direction- just for show- before leaning back in, drumming his fingers against the side of Cor's neck where he held his throat. “Marshal,” he sing-songed, trailing a thumb over his fly. “Earth to Cor...”

His eyes snapped down to Ardyn's, the blue of them bright and intense. “You said your best is your best,” he replied gruffly. His pulse stuttered briefly under Ardyn's hand, but- through likely determination alone- it found its pace again. “I'm holding you to that.”

“Oh I would hope so,” he began pressing Cor back, walking him back one step, and then another before bringing his hand up from his crotch to give his stomach a solid push. It wasn't enough to send him sprawling, especially being that Cor had been plenty prepared for the shove. Instead he took it as the direction Ardyn intended it as, sitting down on the bed and bringing himself up onto it as Ardyn pressed determinedly at his neck, never easing up until he had to crawl onto the bed on his knees after him. 

His hand was like a collar around Cor's throat, with the way he led him the leash. It was almost too much power for one man, and here Cor was, giving up _his_ so easily. It was almost sweet, with the way he watched him, to the point he was staring less at Ardyn's hand and more at his shoulder like he was trying to predict his next moment. Sweeter still when he hid a flinch as his back met the headboard. 

Ardyn held him there, watching him hungrily as he drew in a long breath through his nose, paced like someone trying to calm themself, and Ardyn pressed the heel of his palm to his crotch, extinguishing Cor's efforts before they had a chance to blossom as he held him to the headboard- a good headboard; one made of sturdy wood rather than metal bars even if that sort also had their uses that him and Cor were intimately acquainted with.

“As nice as it would be to hold you here and do this,” he murmured, grinding his palm against where he could feel Cor harden in his jeans, “I'd much prefer it if you laid down. If I wanted to choke you against something solid... well,” he made a shrugging motion somewhere off the bed, “I'd have just had you lay on the floor.”

Cor scoffed, not quite a chuckle, but almost. He didn't take his eyes off Ardyn's hand. “Maybe someday.”

Ardyn dug his thumb and forefinger into Cor's throat where already he could feel his pulse quicken; that sensitive space where one could slip a knife beneath one's jaw and where if someone was sick you could always tell. It was the same place Cor always grabbed him when their roles were reversed. Ardyn tightened his grip, drawing a gasp while he kept his hand over Cor's groin. He gave an appraising smile, like he'd discovered something particularly interesting and raised his eyebrows to his hairline.

“Perhaps sooner than we think, if _this,_ ” he pressed on Cor's throat and crotch simultaneously, putting his weight into it and hearing him drag a hiss of breath through his teeth. Ardyn rubbed at the denim, but remained still and heavy in his grip at his throat, “is all it takes to get you worked up.”

“Like you're one to talk,” Cor replied, lacking heat and certainly lacking punch and seeming very much like he was tempted to just tip his head back and bare his throat for the throttling. Ardyn watched his throat bob and shift as he swallowed in arousal and Ardyn leaned forward, yanking down the tantalizingly low collar of undershirt (his coat was tucked away, hidden beneath Ardyn's so he could watch the man try and find it later) to bite and suck a mark into his pale skin. He felt the groan under his hand and that only made him want to tighten his grip for no other reason than just to see if he could stop the noises from coming, even if they were too pretty to ignore.

“I never that I was,” he murmured, pushing him to lay flat on the bed, “I'm more than aware of what it takes to get me going... but _you..._ Finding out is just such an _adventure_ when it's _you,_ Cor,” he pressed him down, forced him onto his back, until the worn pillows of the motel bed framed his head. He released the hold he had on Cor's crotch, giving a solid squeeze in way of a parting gift and snatched the moan from the marshal's throat by wrapping his hands around it. Cor's eyes fell shut as he shuddered, and Ardyn cooed.

“You're just so noble,” he hummed, rolling his hips against Cor's hard stomach, letting the rocking motions lead the amount of pressure he exerted, switching it up now and then to straighten his arms and back and truly choke him. “The fact that this gets you going... Well, it's _thrilling,_ my dear marshal. To know that you- so determined, so stoic- so openly _enjoy_ being at another's mercy like this...” 

He trailed his fingers of one hand down his chest, tracing the shape of his collarbone, then running it down between his pectorals. He found the shape of his sternum, and pressed his hand flat to feel each quick rise of his diaphragm. Ardyn could feel each pull of breath Cor made, timed and paced with the healthy beats of his heart. “But look at you... so calm. More turned on then you are afraid, hm?”

Cor shifted beneath him, sucking in a long breath when Ardyn released some pressure, and gasped when Ardyn all but crushed it back out of him. He was flustered, that much was clear, and his eyes were still shut, opening for only brief moments at a time before he let out another strained and terribly pretty noise. His brow was twisted like he was trying to focus. Ardyn leaned forward, balanced his weight on his forearms against Cor's chest, letting his thumbs and his palms squeeze the air out of the marshal. 

“Is that why you're so determined?” Ardyn asked, knowing he would receive no answer, but that being part of the fun. “Why, you've been seen on so many battlefields; in so many conflicts, and always coming out bruised yet breathing? It's the dance with death, for you, isn't Cor? Do you get off to the thrill of being alive?”

The highs of Cor's cheeks were tinged pink, his eyes opening to meet Ardyn's as his chest shifted beneath his arms. They were intense, yet almost relaxed and Ardyn didn't know _what_ he saw or thoguht, and looked at him intently for it. He sat up, shifting his hips back. 

Like a good boy, Cor's hands were at his sides, gripping the comforter under them to the point that the cracking skin of his knuckles had gone white. Any more, and Ardyn imagined that Cor would pull some of the stitching. Perhaps even tear holes in it. Part of him wanted to see if he _could,_ if _he_ could get Cor to that point. He shifted his hands, prolonging the weight he put upon him; the pressure. He wrapped his grip around him fully, making sure to feel each shudder and breath.

“Dear marshal,” Ardyn praised with a whisper, squeezing tighter and tighter and holding Cor's gaze just as tightly. “Allow me to say that _you..._ Oh, you're one of a _kind._ ” He brought himself above him, staring down into his eyes. He held his throat with the same desire he had to put his hand to Cor's cheek, to make that contact. “My diamond in the rough...”

Under his fingertips he could feel Cor's pulse straining like a caged bird, but his face was serene; like his body was struggling against something Cor had come to terms and made rapid peace with. Fitting, for the immortal, and Ardyn pressed his hands tighter, tighter, _tighter_ until the slopes between his thumbs and index fingers ached. Cor's pulse was rapid now, his skin warm and Ardyn's hands aching as blood pumped beneath them- separated by skin Ardyn knew was all too thin and his own, calloused and grown thick- and through them. Cor's eyes fluttered shut. His face was serene, even where it had grown red and splotchy. Even as Ardyn could practically feel Cor flirt along the edge of death under his hands- just a little more pressure, just a little longer---

How fitting for the Immortal, Ardyn thought, for what did an immortal have to _fear_ from death?

He jerked his hands from Cor's throat, savoring that shocked inhale, the sound of oxygen promptly filling his lungs as Cor took that first breath, one that was Ardyn's undue pleasure to kiss back away. The kiss was onesided (if only for Cor still having to regain his bearings) and Ardyn bit at that pliant mouth, lips gone pink with the blood beneath and bit until he tasted copper. His hands slunk into that cropped, brown hair and he let his fingernails rake lines over Cor's scalp. He continued, kissing the man free of whatever senses he had, tongue licking against his teeth, sloppy and letting Cor taste himself before bringing his teeth to the marshal's freshly shaven jaw.

Cor's skin smelled faintly like a combination of shitty, motel aftershave and equally shitty soap. Tasted like it too, and Ardyn licked a stripe along the slope of his jaw to bite just behind it, just beneath his ear, sucking a mark there that Ardyn hoped would stay for days. For weeks. _Centuries._

He rubbed a thumb over the cloven scar beneath the cartilage of Cor's throat just to hear those shuddering breaths hitch, tumble into a moan, and he kissed back down his jaw, eyeing the forming bruise where his mouth had been settled. Ardyn kissed the scar sweetly, then returned to suckling a mark onto that porcelain complexion. His thumbs traced the points where the scar tapered and widened like one would follow words on a page; idly, and painfully casually when the skin you were touching all but vibrated, when you had just finished choking its bearer not two minutes before. 

Ardyn wondered what his callouses felt like against that scar; against that little chink in Cor the Immortal's armor. 

A hand groped itself into the wild fluff of Ardyn's hair, grabbing once, twice in between quick breaths Ardyn could feel as Cor's stomach rose against the insides of Ardyn's thighs and glanced his groin where he'd carefully straddled the marshal, perching above him, careful not to sit and crush the air from the man's lungs before it was even drawn. Cor's hand found its grip, wrenched Ardyn from his neck even if his hands stayed where they were. Cor's other hand dug its its grip into his thigh. Ardyn smiled as he met his eyes, that vibrant blue fever-bright, and all the brighter where Cor's eyes had gone slightly bloodshot. He thumbed the curve of his lower lip, the other rubbing circles over the widest point of that beloved little scar.

“My,” he crooned, smiling through Cor pulling Ardyn's thumb between his teeth, through feeling the man bite hard enough to break the skin, “and just when I thought those eyes couldn't get any brighter.”

Ardyn felt his bone strain, the sensation thrumming through his hand and up his arm to settle electric between his shoulder blades, jolting down his spine like a shiver. His smile stuck and he rubbed fondly at kiss mark he'd sucked deep into Cor's skin. He felt Cor fight through it, sky-colored eyes trained hard and steely on his until he felt that handsome jaw relax, release where it had felt like it had locked like a starving hound's around a slab of meat. Cor's mouth was pressed thin as Ardyn thumbed a cheekbone. 

After a moment- a moment of Ardyn watching him fondly, expectant, and Cor staring back with a unreadable sort of defiance- Cor hollowed his cheeks and turned his head, spitting a mouthful of tar-like blood well off the mattress. Ardyn whistled low, grinned a dagger smile. He played his fingers through Cor's hair, sweeping his (pleasantly) aching thumb over his brow. The small hairs mingled in the wound just long enough to send more little, static pains into his hand. 

“Good to know you can spit as well as you can swallow,” he cooed, the marshal coughing softly with what Ardyn would chase Cor to his long-awaiting grave with and adamantly defend as having been a laugh.

Cor cleared his throat, and Ardyn rubbed at his scar when he winced, dropping forward to prop his elbow up on Cor's shoulder and his head into his hand. Ardyn watched him like someone would a puppy trying to climb the stairs, like Cor trying to get in a clean, clear breath after all that was particularly endearing. (and oh, wasn't it.)

“Not going to be doing much swallowing after that,” Cor groused, perhaps simply due to the rasp of his throat. There was an undeniably pleased haze in the marshal's eyes and a similar flush to his skin and Ardyn was all too experienced to not be able to see it, and Ardyn was sure Cor was simply putting on a strong face so Ardyn wouldn't know how much. 

“But how often do you, I mean _really?”_ He ran his fingertips from Cor's lower lip down his chin, feeling his way down to the dip of his clavicle. He traced his way over his skin, fond, with how Cor didn't do much more than sigh, didn't do much more than bare his throat and there was so much Ardyn could do with that sort of trust. “Well,” he hummed, massaging Cor's adam's apple, “I don't mind. I mean, if I did, it'd make our excursions rather... questionable, wouldn't it?”

Cor's hands slid up Ardyn's thighs slowly, drawing in a breath that caused his rising chest to shift against them. He rubbed his thumbs in circles and everything felt.... Tender. Horrifically and disgustingly tender and it was moments like this that made Ardyn feel like he would do anything for more of this. For more of _Cor._ Cor, and all of his fake immortality that Ardyn may have been offended by if anyone else had claimed that moniker. His fake immortality when it may as well have been real and true with how immaculately he carried himself. How fearlessly he faced anything, much less _him_

It hadn't been long ago that Ardyn realized that he would wrap his hands around his throat until it was bruised black if that was what Cor wanted, and go to his knees for him at a word. Cor was beautiful in pleasure; hopelessly handsome as he softly grunted out a gasp of moan, his hands clenching as Ardyn caressed his forming bruises and traced his nail slowly over his silvering scar. 

And Ardyn was the one to see this. Ardyn, and (knowing Cor, ever so repressed before he had graciously flounced his way into the marshal's life) _only_ Ardyn.

“You like questionable,” Cor said simply, voice wrecked even without the snark. Ardyn couldn't help but almost whisper a laugh.

“As do you, apparently,” he shrugged, and brought his hand behind him to feel where Cor... should have been straining against the fly of his jeans. Instead, there was just a wet patch near his hip. He laughed, thumbing Cor's chin as the marshal's hips fidgeted under his hand with a grin that felt genuine. Utterly so, feeling as wrong on his face as it felt so very _right_. “Apparently more than I thought! Oh Cor, is this all because of me?” He tugged at Cor's still pink face, pulling and shaking his cheek.

“This was hardly questionable-” Cor scoffed.

“Oh it goes all the way to your ears!” Ardyn cooed.

Cor swatted weakly- halfheartedly- at Ardyn's hand, tugging at his hip with the hand he wasn't fending Ardyn off with. _“I_ asked, and you gave me what I asked for.”

Ardyn raised a brow. “And this?” he asked, gesturing with a hand as Cor took hold of his hips in both hands, obliging him by shimmying forward on his knees when the marshal's hands moved to his thighs again but this time to tug him forward to straddle his chest. Ardyn watched him wet his lips. He blinked, gaze magnetically drawn to that slip of tongue between his lips, before thumbing his mouth, now damp with more than the heat of his labored breathing. “Oh Cor,” he crooned. “That's _sweet,_ but you don't need to.”

Cor snorted, endearingly expressive. “I know. Otherwise I would have just gone to bed and let you take care of yourself.” He hooked his thumbs into Ardyn's pants, shifting back up the bed beneath his weight.

“And your throat?” Cor stopped, eyes flicking between looking at Ardyn's and looking at his crotch. His fingers worked at Ardyn's fly, grinding the base of his palm into the shape of him through his trousers and sending a shudder through him. “Cor?” he sing-songed as before, though the word devolved into a moan as that grind turned to a squeeze, and then a grip. “Cor, you naughty thing, just _what_ are you up to-”

He watched Cor fish his cock from his pants and underwear- squeezing and grinding his thumb into the head- and watched more curiously as Cor hiked his own shirt up beneath where Ardyn faintly straddled him, seeming to take full advantage of the fact that Ardyn hadn't settled his full weight onto him. He only took his hand off of him to struggle his shirts over his head, exposing his toned chest and Ardyn wished he was still sitting further back so he could admire him properly. 

“Well that's a lovely view,” he chuffed, moaning again and biting his lip as Cor's calloused palm returned to his length, massaging his balls in his other hand.

“Move forward.”

Ardyn obliged- obeyed- and moved forward until Cor could practically hug around his waist. He eyed him as suspiciously as he could with Cor still jacking his length in one hand, but couldn't maintain whatever suspicion he was trying to muster; he was too curious, and this too unlike what he'd experienced from the straight-laced, if not forward marshal.

“This is so much easier without that stupid fucking coat of yours...” Cor muttered, shifting a knee up the bed behind him.

“That 'stupid fucking coat,'” Ardyn supplied, jutting out his lower lip in a pout that didn't reach his eyes, carding his fingers through the crop of Cor's hair, “has helped hide you on our excursions more times then I could possibly _count,_ my fair marshal, and I believe I've done a fair enough share of _that_ to _know._ I could easily show you off to the world but where's the thrill in that?” He braced a forearm on the headboard as a place to rest his forehead while he looked down at the other man. “Now, are you almost done down there or do I need to go and take care of this myself?”

“Pushy,” Cor laughed, the sound gruff but sweet and clear in Ardyn's ears and he felt his (unnecessarily beating) heart jump in his chest

 _“Practical,”_ Ardyn objected, but couldn't hold back a grin.

“Go on, then,” Cor took his hips again like he was trying to prove a point, forcing him down and forward in a way that ground Ardyn's cock and balls against his skin, against the scars of silver and dark pink that marked his flesh and the small peppered marks that healed well but not quite right, never fully. He shifted him forward again, then back, catching his balls in the motion and dragging a gasp from his throat. “Take care of it yourself.”

He stuttered out a laughed, scraping his nails through Cor's hair and pressing his eyes into his forearm. “Oh Cor, what a _treat-”_

“Work for it-”

“Oh, but don't you have to?” Ardyn laughed again, gnawing on his lower lip as he ground himself into the line between Cor's pecs, pressing one into the side of his cock and smearing a line of pre across the marshal's skin. “All good things, Cor, you _always_ have to work for them. Always, always. Trust me, I would know.”

“Mmhmm.” Cor pressed his thumb into the head of his length, gathering some of his pre-come, tinged grey as it had been for years and slicking Ardyn's cock with it, squeezing as he pulled down his length before swiftly fisting it back up. “Then you have experience.”

“And I'll have to work _extra_ hard because you're being so _very_ good, my Cor. Just _wonderful._ Such a good boy.” He could feel a shudder in Cor's arm where his hands were still coaxing Ardyn's hips to movement, and he pulled his eyes down, laughing softly as he saw those vibrantly blue eyes focused on his, burning hotter than fire while the color of ice and all things peaceful. Cor looked at him like he wanted to consume him and, gods above and willing, Ardyn hoped he would. 

He fucked against Cor's chest, reveling in the slickness combined with the faint friction of where Cor's skin was still dry and the scrape of his chest hair against his aching cock. “If this is my reward, I do believe I'd do anything. I'd choke you as much as you want; choke you, collar you, _deny_ you and you'd be so good for me Cor, wouldn't you?” He ground against his skin, feeling the way Cor's pulse quickened, seeing that pink color stay spread to his ears even in the shadow he'd cast over him, like the moon eclipsing the sun and feeling Cor's hands press more insistently at his backside. 

“I could step on you, even,” he suggested, and felt Cor's grip move beneath his clothes, blunt nails digging into his skin and he gasped, giggled, and ground harder against his chest. “Oh, you like that, don't you? My, what a beautiful thing they had in you...”

“Don't make promises you can't keep,” Cor hissed, dragging his nails over his skin and Ardyn could feel every microscopic inch of the welts rising and his cock throbbed, jumped, bubbling more precome at the tip that was promptly smeared by the movement of his hips. He grinned his dagger grin.

“My best is my best, my Cor.”

“But is it a _promise?”_

He couldn't kiss Cor like this, not at this angle, and cradled his face in his hands, stroked the highs of his cheekbones. His thumb, still aching from his bite, throbbed where it had now scabbed as he pressed it to Cor's jaw. “It can be, if you want it badly enough... and _do_ you? Will the great Cor the Immortal _admit_ to wanting big, bad Chancellor Izunia's foot on his cock?”

Cor turned his face to press into his hand, lips brushing the wound he'd inflicted and that Ardyn actually wanted to keep. His eyes burned and blazed still, and still for only Ardyn to gaze upon, his torch in this long night, this long night soon all would share but had been his for so long, too long and it was a comfort to know that through everything, Cor's eyes would continue to be alight with that fire.

“Do we need our titles?” Cor asked, and brought a hand from where it was down the back of Ardyn's pants to brush the top of his, nails scraping gently along the back of it as though in juxtaposition to what he'd done to Ardyn's ass. Ardyn pressed his palm flat, Cor's scruff tickling the center of his hand and his skin so warm and so very alive.

He laughed without an edge. “Do we ever?”

And there was a smile, felt only against his skin (his, his, _his_ ) and he felt Cor's laugh in his chest, through his cock and that spurred his hips back to movement, his head against the headboard and it surely pressing a line into his forehead but that was hardly an afterthought, the friction of him fucking his cock through his own pre against and between Cor's pecs too real to care about anything else,and his eyes too blue and hands- now hands, now that it had returned from holding Ardyns- too strong against his ass where Cor _still_ felt like he had to _coax_ Ardyn to _move._ It was real, all too and blessedly real.

He felt that if someone asked if some small part of him was in love with Cor Leonis, the most he would do was look at them like they were stupid. Not because it was false, no, but because- perhaps to all but Cor- it should have been obvious.

Ardyn rocked his hips more insistently, pulling back slower and thrusting forward quicker as though he was fucking Cor's ass instead of his chest, cradling the back of Cor's skull with his hair soft between his fingers and able to feel each rock of movement the weight of his thrusts caused. His balls were tight where the they ground against Cor's sternum, growing slicker where he and Cor were- rather efficiently- making a mess. His pre was a puddle just below the marshal's clavicle with some dripping into the the dip of it, just below his scar. Unable to resist, he smeared it, sending the already silvery scar to glistening, and he watched Cor's face scrunch.

 _“Really?”_ Was all he asked, pressing Ardyn's hips forward more to build that momentum further until Ardyn was gasping between moans, unable to keep himself from giggling.

“Why not? We're already a mess.”

Unexpectedly, Cor paused, still gripping Ardyn's backside as Ardyn ground against his muscular chest, fingers between the cheeks of his ass with nails digging it like it was his only lifeline. He looked at him in thought, like he was contemplating something before simply chuckling, short and brief but enough to grab Ardyn's attention in it's rarity. “You're right,” he said simply, and pulled his hands from Ardyn's pants, pulling back his arms and taking a moment to angle his hands under his thighs, nudging aside his balls enough to grip at the muscles of his thighs just beside his groin. It was less a threat, and more a beckoning thing. Something to get his attention, and oh, didn't it. “Get down here.”

 _Down?_ Ardyn thought, then yelped as he was nearly dumped forward. At some point, Cor had gotten his feet beneath himself, planting them to the bed to push his pelvis upwards to make Ardyn lose his balance. He grabbed at the headboard to avoid crashing his head further into it where he'd settled it and immediately the placement of Cor's hands made sense. 

He'd angled Ardyn's hips down, his wet length still nestled in the line between his chest made by the lovely amount of muscle he had. His mouth went dry at the sight of his pre dripping down towards Cor's bruised and bitten neck, pooling with tension along the center of his throat where Cor kept his head up before dripping down the sides of his neck in trails... and then just the _position_ they were in...

He grinned shakily, his laughter breathless and coming out as a wispy chuckle. “Another treat?” He asked, his breathing heavy where he was breathing deep to try and pace it. His cock throbbed terribly, and he watched as Cor licked his lips.

“A promise is a promise.” The marshal brought him closer.

Ardyn wound a hand in Cor's hair, feeling for the sensitive lines he'd raised earlier and feeling the shudder, hearing the moan in Cor's soft exhale. “We haven't even decided on _what_ I've promised yet,” he murmured, keening and biting his lip hard as Cor breathed hotly against the head of Ardyn's cock, just over the slit. He fisted what he could of Cor's hair. “Cor...!”

“I'm sure we'll figure it out,” he murmured, and Ardyn felt every word sooner than he heard it, felt a chuckle only in breath, and the blood rushed in his ears. “I trust you.”

The admittance sent a shiver up his spine and another throb through his cock and part of him wanted to sit and think on those words (for far longer the was practical, like something he could hold and turn and examine in his hands because gods be damned, let him _have this._ ) but he was too soon distracted by the heat of Cor's mouth and the sensation made by texture of Cor's lips where he'd pulled them over his teeth as he pulled Ardyn towards him. The heat surrounding him was gradual, Cor clearly taking his time and it taking all of Ardyn's power to not simply fuck the other man's face and be done with it. He could feel Cor's tongue against him, flat against the vein along the bottom of his length as he began to push and pull Ardyn's hips forward and back, his cock rubbing against Cor's chest with every thrust, combining heat and friction and the wet bliss of Cor's mouth. 

Cor hollowed his cheeks, sucking at the head of his cock before pulling Ardyn into his mouth. His teeth lightly ran over the top of it on the withdraw and Ardyn dug his nails into Cor's scalp, keening as he choked on a curse. The marshal's shoulders juddered and his chest shook and- while it took a moment- Ardyn realized the man was _laughing_ at him, as if he wasn't the one with a cock in his mouth and precome slicking his chest and dripping down his throat.

He jerked his hips, killing the laughter a moment as he thrust into Cor's mouth of his own accord but when he opened his eyes (when had he shut them?) Cor's were bright with a sort of mischief, and trained on his with an intensity Ardyn rarely saw. He took his nails from the lines he'd gouged into Cor's scalp, running the back of his hand shakily down his cheek before pinching once where it was softest. “You're...- _gods,_ Cor- You're trying to kill me, aren't you? That joke about you dying in my bed; you're just trying to turn that back on me, are you?”

Cor blinked at him slowly, those blue eyes gazing up at him through dark lashes hypnotizing. Cor squeezed his thigh, holding his balls in one hands and sucked hard. Ardyn bit his lip close to bleeding, rocking his hips and letting his forehead shift down the headboard as the hand he braced himself with clung hard enough he swore his fingers would leave _dents._

Blood on the floor. Grey and, surely, soon enough, if Cor kept this up, black stains on the sheets. Dents in the wooden headboard, and boot prints on the comforter. What a mystery for the next tenants to solve.

He began thrusting his hips in and out of Cor's mouth, gasping with each grope to his thighs and moaning with every swallow Cor made around him. It was an unexpected talent on Cor's part, especially considering the damage Ardyn knew he had done to the man's throat. “Cor,” he whispered, thumbing his cheek, dragging his hand through his hand and down his neck and feeling were his own pre was cooling on Cor's skin. _“Cor,”_ he said again, voice tighter, more desperate and all Cor did was dig his fingers into Ardyn's trouser-clad thigh, thumbing where his cock met his balls as he rolled them in his hand. He was the one fucking the marshal's mouth, yet he somehow didn't feel an ounce of control. 

This encounter had never been about controlling the marshal, but it felt like Cor had somehow wound him around his finger in mere moments, as though he'd hollowed Ardyn of his flesh, pulling it apart along with his skin thread by thread, like he worked free his bones and carved them as he saw fit, carved his name into his ribs and traced his name onto every one of Ardyn's stupidly, hopelessly useless organs, but never once feeling like making him feel controlled or subjugated. Conquered, perhaps, but in the way of Cor taking what was given. Owning it. Owning him, taking what Ardyn gave him and making it utterly his, and it didn't help that, in moments like these, Ardyn was practically giving Cor all of himself.

Giving on reflex; giving without _question_ Ardyn realized and rather than giving him pause it only made him buck forward more desperately, murmuring a mantra of Cor's name as both of his hands coming back to the marshal's head, holding him still as he fucked his mouth and Cor- oh, _Cor,_ dear Cor. Dear, sweet Cor, bless him- let him. Let him, let him use his mouth just as he'd let him grip his throat.

Again, there was so much he could do with that trust. So very, _very_ much, but for now, he'd just cherish it while he had it, and held his words tight and low in his throat as he came with a curse, spilling himself down Cor's throat. Cor swallowed around him, massaging slow circles into Ardyn's inner thighs until he found himself again through the haze of his (overly smitten) climax. He swatted weakly at Cor's hands, giving a swift tap to the top of his knuckles on either hand. “That tickles,” he murmured, sounding distant to his own ears. He tried again. “Cut that out.”

He took another second to collect himself before pulling his hips slowly back, releasing Cor's head and wiping the sweat beaded across his forehead away with his thumb as Cor coughed. Ardyn smiled, arching a brow. “Regrets, marshal?” He asked, still needing to make a conscious effort to keep himself from sounding too breathless.

Cor snorted, wiping a smear of black from his lips where the trail had connected to the head of Ardyn's cock. “Hardly. Just something to feel in the morning.”

“Ooo, and won't that be pleasant.”

“I got what I wanted.”

Ardyn sought out the indents in Cor's scalp, rubbing circles into them. “Not exactly something we can do on our nights out on the town- well,” He stopped, mouth twisted thoughtfully. “Not so much town. Military bases, is more like it...” He leered at Cor, who just stared up at him, looking not unlike a sated cat; as satisfied as he was tired _and all because Ardyn fucked his chest and came down his throat..._

“Still going on about that dinner?” Cor finished for him, snapping him from his reverie of staring fondly at the man that originally been something of contemplation. 

He slid off of the marshal, bringing one leg over to the clear space on the bed beside him before flopping onto his side, hardly bothering to tuck himself back into his pants. The bedspread was already ruined. More spit and come would hardly be anything in comparison. “Pardon me for my romantic nature,” he snickered, pinching Cor's nose and shaking it to watch his face scrunch. “I'm but a man, my dear marshal. I can't help my deeply rooted desire for being swept off my feet.

“I thought I did that enough just now.”

Ignoring the small jolts of pleasure still courses through his legs, Ardyn smacked the man's chest where it wasn't still semi-slick with Ardyn's pre. “Yes, yes, be very proud of yourself. You nearly had me speechless! Nearly.”

Cor hummed, outstretching and offering an arm that he couldn't help but move into. The room stank of sex; _they_ stank of sex but Ardyn had smelled worse. He set a hand on Cor's stomach, tracing the lines and curves of his abs with a light touch that caused Cor's body to tense. He chanced touching the graze on his side, and got Cor slapping a hand firmly over his for his efforts.

“You're ticklish, marshal,” Ardyn whispered conspiratorially, patting the mark as much as he could with his pinky.

“It's sensitive.”

Ardyn snickered. “So are you, you macho man, you.”

All that earned him was a hum and Cor's thumb rubbing against his bicep.

Eventually, they would get up; They'd then share a shower while letting their pants soak in the tub because the man knew or cared alarmingly little about dry cleaning, and Ardyn would get down and suck his dick, and then they would go from there. Cor would go back to smelling like shitty motel soap and Ardyn would waste time. Dance around and answer just enough questions to keep Cor from figuring it a lost cause. He'd tell him what bases he'd be visiting over the following weeks, give a wink, and run off and leave Cor to pay for the room.

For now, however, he would enjoy this strange, not-quite cuddling they did or the closest thing to it, with the both of them smelling terrible, with come drying on their skin and a small amount of blood and considerably greater amount of pre soaking into the bedspread. He'd enjoy it more than he would admit later, that small part of him in love with the marshal or not. He patted the graze of a scar, resting his cheek on Cor's shoulder and batting his eyes at him with a grin.

“You _do_ know I'd do anything for you, don't you, marshal?”

Cor's eyebrow raised, and Ardyn tucked the sound of his so-very-wrecked voice away for later, something to think about when he was alone with his hand. “Your promise?”

His grin didn't fall. “That, too.”

He'd leave Cor to stew on that statement until he saw him again.

**Author's Note:**

> @kibahshi on tumblr and @kibawrites on twitter if u wanna hmu! (and thank you to the slime chat for helping me with the confidence in writing and posting this vkjfbvkdjsbv)


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